What happens in the Dread Palace
by DreadMasterStyrak
Summary: ...stays in the Dread Palace. Or...not, in case of these stories featuring my headcanon\fanon versions of the Dread Masters from SWTOR. I gave them personalities beyond the "Grrr fear fear kill all" shown in the game.
1. Past

**Even the Dread Masters were kids once. Or, Bestia meets Cordre AKA future Raptus.**

* * *

Bestia had been feared ever since she was a child. Big, strong and fierce, she wasn't a kid to mess with. The gloomy streets of the Ziost citadel were her playground. She was the only one who dared wandering into the most grim corners of the Citadel. It was there where she found a tiny, drenched in cold rain, sobbing Pureblood boy named Cordre.

"Hey?" - Bestia snuck around the corner. The sound of crying she heard before had stopped, before continuing again, louder this time.

The redhead crept forward, her eyes darting from side to side, trying to locate the source of the sound, until they stopped and focused on a small figure hunched under a wall. Bestia moved in closer. From this distance, she could see that it was a child, like her. Maybe even younger, judging by the fact they were much smaller than she was. And awfully thin.

The child didn't feel familiar to her, it didn't seem to be any of the kids she knew. But it wouldn't hurt to check. Bestia closed the remaining distance and put a hand to the figure's shoulder.

While it was pretty obvious that he was scared, Bestia didn't expect him to shrink down even more and shake so violently, all of that accompanied by renewed scared sobs.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down. I'm not gonna beat you!"

Bestia stepped back, not sure what to do next. Might as well try to figure out what happened.

"What are you doing here, alone? The weather's super gnarly!"

The other child didn't answer at first, then he slowly turned to face her. Two pairs of glowing eyes stared at each other in quiet surprise. This one was a Pureblood too! It was quite gloomy, but Bestia could make out that he was small, thin and had huge bright orange eyes that looked back at her with fear.

Bestia sighed: she had NO idea what to do with scared little kids. She was rarely scared. Almost never. And was proud to be brave. She tried to remember what father did on the rare occasions she got scared. It usually came down to him sitting by her side and telling stories. But what stories could be told under a staring cold drizzle? Bestia shook her head, droplets flying in all directions, and extended a hand to the boy.

"Don't be scared. I'll take you home. Dad will come up with something, maybe he'll find your parents? Hey, what's your name by the way?"

Bestia tried to smile, as encouragingly as she could.

The other child looked at her for a few seconds, then sniffled and got up slowly, and finally mustered the courage to speak:

"I-I'm Cordre."

Bestia grinned at her progress and took his hand, urging him to follow her.

"Well, I'm Bestia! You're lucky I found you. No one messes with me!"

Cordre was silent for several moments, than replied:

"Bestia? What kind of name is that?"

"Uuuh, well, you can ask my father. He can sort of, see the future, and named me according to some vision or something. I like my name. And if anyone has problems, well, it's THEIR problems."

Cordre nodded and fell silent for the rest of the walk to Bestia's home.

Which would soon become his home too.


	2. Strangers

**An answer to a Tumblr prompt which was "Stranger". This is purely my headcanon\speculation of how the Dread Masters met.**

* * *

They stood at the gates of the Sith Emperor's throne room, wondering why he would gather such an unlikely party. There were six of them - Argia herself, her twin brother Teyro, three Sith Purebloods, and a large human keeping a bit of a distance from others. The Purebloods kept together: an elderly looking man with fluffy dark hair and sideburns and a weight of grief upon him, a tall and ferocious young woman with an outrageously red mohawk, looming protectively over a thin, gaunt man wrapped in several layers of fancy clothing.

Argia scanned them, remembering something about the Pureblood woman being called Bestia and reportedly stopping a whole slave uprising alone. The others she just looked over lazily, deciding to put learning about them for a more appropriate time.

Besides, her interest was drawn to the last, but definitely not least one - the only person that was remotely familiar to her in this gathering, aside from her twin.

Argia remembered conversing with this man, quite some time ago, on a meeting in Ziost's Sith academy, and having an impression of a brilliant mind. They kept up correspondence afterwards, sharing their insights of different aspects of Sith Alchemy and it's usage in creation of artifacts. Sadly, his name kept evading her memory…

While she was busy burrowing into the depths of her memory, the man approached the three Purebloods and exchanged a few quiet words with the elderly one, who nodded solemnly and sighed.

Argia's pondering was interrupted, as they all were called to their destiny…


	3. Intervention

**Styrak sometimes has to intervene**

* * *

Styrak grumbled, and walked up to Brontes, effortlessly scooping her off the ground, interrupting a loud and angry hiss and earning another.

Next stop was Raptus, who was hugged around the waist and then held under an arm as Styrak walked away from the poor Dread Guards whose only crime was to speak up at an improper moment and interrupt Raptus's endless flow of words.

Calphayus followed him with a stare.

"I'll finish here".

He chuckled in amusement seeing two of his fellow Dread Masters being carried away. Raptus was so surprised he lost all his words. Brontes was squirming feebly and hissing and leering at the Dread Guards.

By Calphayus's side, Tyrans and Bestia could barely contain laughter.

"I will not hear any of your hissing!" - Styrak's grip was gentle, yet unrelenting at the same time.

"Let us go" - Raptus demanded, - "There infidels would benefit from learning from me!"

Brontes just hissed loudly and poked at Styrak with her tentacles, unable to actually do anything.


	4. Why do you do this?

**Calphayus tries to reach out to Brontes**

* * *

Calphayus cringed as he watched Brontes's new attachments move about idly. Their owner looked gaunt and worn out, her face even more pale than usual, and her wild eyes framed in deep shadows.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" - Calphayus iterated for a millionth time, aloud this time.

"It is none of your business, Lord Calphayus." - Her voice was flat, devoid of anything. And yet it sent shivers down Calphayus's spine.

The Pureblood sighed heavily. It pained him to see Brontes like that, and it pained him even more to not be able to do anything, even though he had gone through a similar kind of suffering before. He had lost his beloved, too.

He sighed again, not really knowing what to say.

"You know…if you want to talk… I'll be there."


	5. Sermon (feat Rammas Rak'shi)

**Written in response to a prompt on Tumblr.**

 **Dread Master Raptus lectures his descendant on the consequences of arrogance, on the example of his other descendant.**

 **Characters:**

 **Rammas Rak'shi - OC**

 **Dread Master Raptus**

 **Shanrou Rak'shi - OC (mentioned)**

* * *

"People who think they know everything are a great annoyance to those of us who do."

As Raptus uttered these words, he raised a gilded cup and took a long, thoughtful sip from it.

"Take your no-good sibling, Shanrou, for example. He showed so much promise, yet he let his ambition and arrogance blind him. He thought he is well-prepared to face the Phobis Devices."

The Dread Master sneered and, with a wave of a hand, summoned a small holoprojector and let it settle on the table before him. It powered on and showed an emaciated creature huddled in what looked like a corner of a room.

"Lay your eyes upon the consequences of arrogance, and learn."

Rammas did as was prompted and sighed.

"I feel bad for him…"

As they watched, the creature was approached by someone, and crouched more in it's corner, pitiful whimpers escaping it.

Raptus scoffed in badly concealed disgust.

"And we had to re-calibrate the devices after his intrusion, and deal with the husk that remained."

Rammas lowered her eyes.

"Point taken. Do not leap ahead unprepared and do no think you know everything."

She sighed again and shuffled from one foot to another.

"Can he be healed back to normal?"

Raptus turned the holoprojector off.

"Possibly? He was damaged rather badly. His mind might not recover."

"Can we try? He's family, after all…Yeah, he messed up, but…"

"It can be arranged. If nothing, it will prove a good subject for study and investigation."

Rammas smiled.

"Thank you, Lord Raptus."


	6. Fading memory

**To get rid of the pain and anger corroding her from the inside, Dread Master Brontes had underwent a cleansing ritual in Voss's Shrine of Healing. However, her memories were gone together with her pain.**

* * *

Seated in front of a screen, Brontes scrolled listlessly through holoimages of the Korriban Academy in ruins. According to the reports, it has been attacked by the Republic Forces while the Imperials commenced a similar incursion to Tython.

Brontes couldn't care less about the Academy, however, she grieved about the lost knowledge that was in the Academy Archives. Of course, she had backup copies of everything she had ever contributed, like a sensible person.

The images brought back pangs of something, however. Something faint, blurred. Shadows of her and Styrak walking down the halls side by side, acolytes and lords alike parting and bowing their heads in reverence.

The image on-screen showed the main hallway, with the damaged obelisk in the center. Brontes sighed, smiling weakly. It was so familiar, yet slipped her grasp. The obelisk was a memorial, to her contributions? Installed on Styrak's order? Or was it her own creation? She zoomed in on the image, and was able to see the writing that ran along the monument's base.

"Power in Fear"

Those were their words. Words of the Dread Masters. Strange, Brontes mused. that the memorial wasn't destroyed by the Dark Council, all too eager to erase any mention of the Dread Masters from their history. Or have they forgotten? Or were they too busy infighting?

Brontes sighed, at what a joke the Imperial Dark Council has always been. That her memory supplied readily. That was some progress, compared to the blank state she was in upon waking after the cleansing on Voss. It had taken away her pain, but also most of her memories.

Styrak has been tremendous help in recovering what has been lost, as were others, sharing what they remembered. Even Tyrans cooperated for once. Brontes reckoned that soon she would have sufficient data on her earlier life.


End file.
